


Accidentally, In Love

by half_rice



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M, Heavy Fluff, Light Angst, Unplanned Pregnancy, also heavy comedy, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 05:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15478584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_rice/pseuds/half_rice
Summary: A condom messes up its one (1) job so you and your boyfriend Johnny have to deal with the aftermath.You're a wedding planner with no intentions of getting married, and he's an idol, so things get complicated.





	Accidentally, In Love

**Author's Note:**

> named after the Counting Crows/ Shrek song because that song is sOOO JOHNNY??? COUNTING CROWS?? A BIG JOHNNY SUH MOOD. THE SHREK SOUNDTRACK? such a johnny suh mood
> 
> Also this is gonna have a lot of Ten because I fucking want to put Ten here
> 
> Also also this is canon compliant-ish? Not an AU?? Ish?? Anyway Johnny is an idol
> 
> also also also this one goes out to my homegirl the real Mrs. Suh - i did my best to sound Johnny biased, did I do it right??

I.

The miracle of life didn’t _feel_ like a miracle – it felt like an ill-advised quickie in the bathroom of a wedding reception venue.

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in months, and you were in that terrible time right before you get your period, and you’d just sat through another wedding that wasn’t your own. All of these excuses would come later, but the fact remains: You found yourself sitting on a fake marble bathroom counter, legs spread and hands on Johnny’s shoulders as he pounds into you, gasping your name against your neck.

It was good, really, until you found yourself feeling warm and wet and _too_ good down there. You had to stop and shake Johnny a little. “Hey. Johnny.”

“Mm-hm, babe?” Johnny tilted his head up to kiss you on the cheek before pulling you into a sweaty embrace.

“I think… something happened.”

“It was good for me, too, babe.”

“No-” You love Johnny, despite everything, so you didn’t call him an idiot. “-something’s wrong.”

 You were right. The condom had ripped, probably because it’d been in Johnny’s wallet for too long, or because it was some crappy brand you didn’t usually buy, or because Johnny had put it on wrong (unlikely). All of the excuses would come later. For now you just kissed Johnny and promised him everything was going to be all right, and it was nothing to worry about.

 

II.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Ten practically shoves the box into your hands. “I’m lowkey morbidly curious. And highkey worried for your ass.”

“Oh come on,” You say, tossing the box onto the nearest table. “My period’s just late because I’m fat. And stressed. And I eat crappy food. It’s _normal_.”

“You’ve been saying that for months now.”

“Have I? Holy shit.” You freeze in the middle of turning on your TV. Ten, your best friend and Johnny’s ex, had come over to your place to blast through the last two seasons of Downton Abbey with you. Neither of you cared about the Crawleys, especially not after the fun one died, you just liked making fun of their accents, like assholes. You had that in common, aside from being petty enough to hang out your ex’s new girlfriend just to piss off said ex only to find that your ex’s new girlfriend is a fucking riot and the only real bitch you’ve met in ages – Well, that’s what Ten did, but you’d have done it in his position.

“Please take the fucking test, Y/N.” Ten begs.

“I don’t wanna.” You whine, flopping onto the couch with your arms crossed.

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Do it for _Johnny_.”

You take a breath, about to come up with a witty response, but you’ve got nothing. “Fine.”

You already know, before you take the damn test, that it’s going to be positive, so you walk out of the bathroom in mild annoyance and throw the stick in Ten’s general direction. “There.”

Ten recoils away from the stick (it’s disgusting), but cranes his neck to take a look. “Holy fuck.”

You crumple into a heap on the couch next to him. “I can’t deal with this! I don’t have time or money for a fucking baby! I don’t even have a _steady job_ -”

“For a wedding planner, you’re not very good at _planning_ , are you?” Ten makes a face as he kicks the pregnancy test aside.

“Fuck you.” You bury your face in your hands, messing up your hair. “Fucking- What the fuck do I do?”

“Are you going to keep it?”

“Of _course_ I’m going to fucking keep it! I’d never be able to look Johnny in the eye and say, yeah, we had a baby, but we’re _not_ – You know him! He’d be fucking heartbroken! Of course I’m going to keep it!” You run your hands through your hair, taking all of it out of its ponytail. “But _where_ am I going to keep it? And how???”

“Shhh, calm down,” Ten pats your shoulder gingerly, then grimaces. “You know what, I’m going to call Johnny-”

“No.”

“I have nothing to do with this!” Ten says, already whipping his phone out. “You guys have to-”

“No! Ten I’m going to push you out the fucking window!”

“Think about the baby!” Ten whines when you start pushing towards your apartment’s open window.

“I _am_! That’s the problem!”

“Hello, Johnny?” Ten cups one hand around his mouth, the other desperately holding his phone to his ear while you try pulling it away.

“FUCK YOU, TEN!”

“No, it’s just Y/N.” Ten says. “I’m at her place right now, and I was wondering if you wanted to- Yeah, okay. Twenty minutes? Sure.”

You watch him hit the end button on his call and turn to you with an apologetic smile. “Ten, I swear to every god…”

“Baby Daddy’s coming from the gym in twenty.”

“Fuck you, Ten.” You fold your arms, but it’s not because you’re angry. You’re trying to give yourself a hug, because you don’t know what the hell you’re going to do now. “And don’t call him that.”

“He won’t be angry.” Ten says, patting your arm in a sincere gesture of, _There, there_. “Actually, I think he’s going to be delighted. Which is awful.”

 

III.

Ten’s right. When you tell Johnny, his face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth – he can see how distressed you are, so he holds back on a full-blown smile, for your sake.

“So, uh… yeah.” You pat the base of your stomach timidly. “This is happening.”

“That’s…” Johnny’s eye twitches from the effort of hiding how ridiculously happy he is right now. “… _awful_.”

You sigh. You love Johnny, you really do, but when it comes to lying… You take his hands in yours, letting him fold his fingers to cover yours almost completely. “It’s okay, Johnny, I know you’re really happy about this. You don’t need to hide it.”

Johnny bites his lip. “But- But this is really bad for you-”

“Johnny.” You squeeze his fingers lightly. They’re shaking, just a little. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I know.” Johnny chews on his lower lip. “But I don’t want to-”

“Just say it. I’ll give you five minutes to let everything out, then we can go back to panicking.”

His smile breaks loose, spreading across his entire face. He looks like he’s fucking sparkling – You know he’s just sweaty because he came from the gym, but _still_. He bends over and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever received, wrapping himself around you like he has no intentions of letting go. “I love you so much.” He says, pulling away only to give you a kiss. “I love you so, _so_ much. You know that?”

You can’t help but smile. “I’d be a real idiot if I didn’t.”

He kisses you again, and again, cupping your cheeks with his hands to pull you closer to him. Then he takes you in is arms again, nearly lifting you off your feet. “We’re going to have a baby!”

“Yay.” You say, with much less enthusiasm.

“Are my five minutes up?” Johnny asks, looking into your eyes with a worried look.

“Nope. Keep going.”

Johnny spins you around in his arms, kisses you again, then drops to his knees and kisses your stomach through your shirt, grins up at you, then proceeds to lift your shirt and pepper kisses all over your stomach. You’re trying to stay on panic mode, for both of your sakes, but every kiss has your entire heart melting. You’re not sure when the five minutes are up, because you bring Johnny up to his feet and kiss him back. He puts his arms around you and lays his hands on the small of your back, and that’s when you know you’re gone – You let him slide his hands down below your ass to pick you up, and you just wrap your legs around him willingly when he carries you to your bed.

“Johnny-” You manage to say in between kisses, but when Johnny’s on top of you like this, you always forget what you’re trying to say. “Johnny…”

Johnny stops kissing you for a second. “Yes, babe?”

You manage to catch your breath and remember what you were going to say. “What are we going to do?”

Johnny stops, resting on his elbows. His mouth scrunches up into a pout while he thinks – he seems to be thinking really hard about this, and it’s so cute you just _have_ to tilt your face up and kiss his nose.

“Well?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” He frowns. “Oh god, I don’t know. What are we going to do? I can’t quit my job- And you won’t be able to work soon- And the kid’s going to have to live somewhere- And oh my god _I don’t know anything about babies_ -”

You sling your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Everything’s going to be fine,” You find yourself saying. “I love you, Johnny.”

“I love you, Y’N. I’m going to be with you the whole time,” Johnny promises, kissing you between each sentence. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

 

IV.

Johnny’s really romantic, but his job isn’t. It whisks him away the very next day, and doesn’t give him back to you for another month.

“How are you?” Johnny asks, his face a fuzzy bunch of concerned pixels.

“I’m fine.” You say, even though you’ve been throwing up almost every morning, and all food tastes crappy to you except tuna sandwiches with raw onion, which you hate on principle.

“How’s the baby?”

“Good.” You say, even though you didn’t really understand all the crap the doctor had thrown at you at your last check-up. All you can remember is that all the other women in line had their husbands with them, and you wanted your Johnny there, too. You just wanted him next to you all the time now, and you weren’t sure whether it was a pregnancy thing or not. “When are you coming home?”

“In four days.” Johnny’s fuzzy little face frowns. “Sorry I couldn’t be there for… everything. I’ll make it up to you, I swear-”

“No, Johnny, it’s not your fault.” You laugh. “If you don’t work that hard, our baby’s going to starve.”

A face pops up in the hotel room behind Johnny, then goes out of frame and pops in again, next to Johnny’s face. “Noona!”

You freeze up. You and Johnny had agreed not to tell anyone about the b-word, and that included all of his bandmates aside from Ten, who was a lost cause anyway. “H- Hi, Mark!”

Mark beams. “Hi!”

“H- Have you just been there the whole time?” You grimace. “I mean, why didn’t you say hi earlier, I miss you-”

“Oh, I just got out of the shower,” Mark points at his pixelated hair. It’s probably wet. “Don’t worry, I won’t listen in on your and Johnny-hyung’s _conversation_.”

“We’re not having phone sex, Mark.” Johnny rolls his eyes.

“Is it still phone sex if it’s a video?” Mark frowns.

“It’s still on a phone.” Johnny says, shaking his phone to make a point. The entire video shudders. He looks at you, eyes wide. “Oh shit, sorry, babe.”

“I’ll let you guys get back to your _conversation_ ,” Mark chuckles to himself. “Bye, noona!”

“Buh-bye!” You say, trying to sound as friendly and not guilty as you possibly can. When the hotel room door closes behind Mark, you let out the breath you’d been holding.

“I’m sorry, babe, I thought he’d take longer in the shower, I don’t know if he’s actually scrubbing anything-” Johnny gets cut off by your uncontrolled laughter. “Babe! Seriously! I don’t know with kids these days!”

“Mark’s only a few years younger than us,” You laugh, wiping one tear from your eye. “Stop acting like a dad.”

“But babe,” Johnny grins. “I _am_.”

The sudden realization that there’s a whole-ass person in your uterus somewhere hits you again like a 16-wheeler truck to the face, and you’re forced to sit down and take a few panicked breaths.

“What’s happening?” Johnny asks, peering in closer to his phone. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Babe?”

“I’m fine…” You say, even though you feel a little faint – You didn’t used to know what that felt like, but you’re getting pretty used to it these days. “I just felt like sitting down.”

“Take it easy, babe,” Johnny’s eyebrows nearly meet in a frown. “Are you still staying up late for the events?”

“I don’t go to the ones that end late, the other assistant does that now.” You say. “But yeah, I still go. I mean, I _have_ to. What’s going to happen to the wedding if the planner isn’t there?”

“What’s going to happen to our baby if you work too hard?”

 “Touché.” You sigh. “But what can I do? I don’t want to have to leech off of you for everything.”

Johnny bites his lip for a moment, then changes the subject. “When’s your next checkup?”

“I have an ultrasound in a week.” You frown for a moment as you recall the memo in your phone. “2pm.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

 

V.

Part of you regrets bringing Johnny along, because he’s almost _too_ excited to be here, but then the other part of you feels like a smug bitch at the way the other pregnant women in the waiting area keep sneaking glances at your boyfriend, even though another part of you is afraid these 30+ year old women might recognize him. Anyway, _all_ of you loves having Johnny’s shoulder to lean your head against, and Johnny’s hand to hold.

“Miss…” A nurse calls out, then glances at you and Johnny. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

You open your mouth to correct her, but Johnny says, “That’s us!” and helps you to your feet before you can say anything.

You don’t know if it’s just because Johnny’s not the most well-informed knife in the drawer, or if all of his high school biology classes have completely slipped his mind, but he’s way too surprised to find a human shape in the monitor. You figure it’s because you’re not that much bigger than you usually are – you look like you just had a really heavy lunch at an eat-all-you-can place – and Johnny might’ve underestimated how fast the gremlin in your uterus is growing.

 No, you tell yourself, this is Johnny’s kid. Don’t call it a gremlin for Johnny’s sake.

“Is that the baby?” Johnny gapes at the monitor.

The med tech looks at you, and you just shut your eyes and nod like, _Humor my man, you bitch_.

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“It’s so big.”

“The baby’s seventeen weeks along now,” The med tech says.

“Are they a boy or a girl? Not that it’s important,” Johnny glances at you, looking for approval. “But can you tell already?”

“The doctor’ll be the one to tell you.”

Johnny just gives you a goofy smile and squeezes your hand. You squeeze his hand back. The ultrasound’s uncomfortable, and you hate feeling exposed like this, but Johnny’s so happy and you’d give anything to see him this happy.

 

VI.

“Daisy.”

It takes a bit of effort, but you roll over in bed and shoot him a dirty look. “ _Daisy_?”

“You said you wanted a beautiful name for your beautiful baby,” Johnny places a hand on your hip, thumbing the bone through your pajamas. His fingers wander under the hem of your shirt to trace along your belly, which is way bigger than post-eat-all-you-can-lunch belly these days. “And I think Daisy’s a beautiful name.”

“Daisy _Suh_?” You ask. “Daisy Suh doesn’t- It’s not- I love you, Johnny, but it sounds _stupid_. She’s going to get bullied. And it’ll be all our fault.”

“Well,” Johnny’s face gets red. “She’s not going to be Daisy _Suh_. She’s going to have your name.”

“Right.” You put your hand over Johnny’s to stop him from drawing lines on your belly. It tickles. “She’s illegitimate and shit.”

“I told you, we should get married.” Johnny smiles, using both hands to pull you closer to him. “You can plan the wedding, and I know a _lot_ of possible wedding singers… and dancers… and rappers.”

You make a face. “Nobody’s rapping at our wedding. _And_ you can’t get married. You know that.”

“We could do it in secret. No more big wedding party, no one else,” Johnny kisses your forehead. “Just us.”

“No.”

“Just so that Daisy’s not illegitimate?”

You don’t know where to begin shutting him down. “No.”

“C’mon, babe, what about when Daisy has to go to school, and-”

“We’re not naming her Daisy! And we’re _not_ getting married!” You spin around and face the wall, immediately regretting the sudden movement. You just shut your eyes and ignore the nausea, because you’re not going to give in to Johnny. No way.

 

VII.

Daisy was born on a Tuesday, early in the evening. Johnny was at a taping, because you and he both thought Daisy would take another month or so before deciding to enter this disgusting, cruel world.

Daisy had other plans.

“Oh fuck.” You say, managing to crawl to your phone charging in the wall socket. You’ve been trying to work from home these past couple of months, the best compromise you and Johnny could come up with, but you’ve been spending most of the day scrolling aimlessly down online baby clothes stores while the other assistant does most of the work. She’s an angel.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” You groan, pulling your phone gracelessly off the charger. You know Johnny’s busy, and you know he’s halfway across the country, and you know that your water has definitely just broken and there is no way he is getting back here in time. You dial another number and put the phone to your ear.

“What?” Ten answers grumpily, then he shifts tone. “Y/N? Why are you calling? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“I need to get to the hospital because- AGGHH FUCK!”

“Y/N?”

“TEN! GET YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT NOW!” You stagger to your closet to throw some things into a duffel bag. “I NEED HOSPITAL! THE BABY’S COMING! NOW!”

“Fuck.” You hear scrambling on Ten’s side. _Good_.

Ten arrives in a few minutes, with his shirt half tucked-in and half out, and his heels stepping on the backs of his sneakers. Their dorm isn’t far from your place, and he’s not part of the taping, whatever it’s for. You toss him your car keys.

“Oh god.” Ten looks horrified as he takes your duffel bag from you and takes you by the forearms to help you out the door. “I hope your car’s automatic, because I don’t know how to drive stick for _shit_.”

You car _is_ automatic, because you’re not an impractical asshole, and Ten manages to get all three of you safely to the hospital. The hospital staff put you on a bed – thank god – and ask Ten if he’s the father, to which he replies, “Haha, no _way_!”

You manage to grab his hand before they bring you to the delivery room. “Call Johnny.”

“Already on it.”

 

VIII.

Johnny arrives five hours after Daisy’s born, well into the next day, breathless from running up four flights of stairs to your hospital room, because he couldn’t wait for the elevator like an ordinary person.

“Y/N?”

You smile at him weakly. “Hi,” Is all you manage to say.

“Are- How are you? Are you okay? Ten told me everything,” He rushes to you side, bending over the bed as he takes one of your hands, realizes it’s got an IV inserted in it, then reaches over and takes your other hand instead. He frowns when he realizes you’re alone on the bed. “W- What happened?”

“She’s fine,” You say, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “They just had to put her in an incubator ‘cause she’s kind of premature.”

“But she’s okay?”

“I think so,” You squeeze his hand lightly, because that’s all you can do right now. You’re exhausted, and all you want to do is sleep for around nine – no, eight months, but Johnny’s so worried you can see the gears turning in his mind, and you need to calm him down. “They said she’s pretty healthy for a preemie.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” You laugh. “But I think that means she’s fine.”

Johnny sinks into the chair next to your bed. “Oh god. Oh my god. I’m- Oh my _god_.”

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but you do, with Johnny’s hand still in yours as he falls asleep in the chair next to you. You only realize you’ve fallen asleep because a nurse is waking you up, pushing in a trolley with a clear plastic bin on it.

Inside is a little white bundle with a pink hat – ordinarily you would have some _words_ with the hospital’s unnecessarily gendered newborn clothes, but you’ve just pushed a small human out of your nether regions. Now’s not the time.

Johnny blinks awake just as the nurse lowers your daughter into your arms. She hardly takes up two arms, because she’s so small. You cradle her close to your chest, and you can feel her tiny heart beating through your fingers. She opens her mouth like she’s yawning, scrunching up her tiny pink face. You can’t tell whom she looks like yet, and you have no idea how people judge newborns that way anyway, and you don’t really care.

“She’s beautiful,” Johnny breathes, as though reading your mind.

“Yeah, she is.” You say, adjusting your daughter’s unnecessarily gendered bonnet. “Do you want to hold her?”

Johnny looks down at the bundle in your arms, then gives you a nervous look. “She’s so small.”

“She’s like four ounces. Or pounds. Or whatever, I don’t remember.” You shake your head lightly.

“I, uh…” Johnny runs a hand though his hair. “I don’t know how to hold a baby.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” You say, forcing yourself to sit up a little and lean towards Johnny. “Come here.”

You take the time to adjust Johnny’s arms with one hand, holding your daughter against your chest with the other, but once you transfer her gently, you realize that Daisy’s roughly the same size as one of Johnny’s hands.

You snort, trying desperately not to laugh. Johnny looks at your with an anxious look on his face, holding the baby so gently and gingerly it’s like he’s afraid she’ll just _explode_ in his hand.

“She’s so small,” Johnny says again, smiling at you with that goofy grin that pushes his eyes nearly shut. He leans down, bringing her up to his face to plant a soft kiss on her stomach. “I love you-”

“Daisy.”

Johnny looks at you, eyebrows raised. “Huh?”

“Her name’s Daisy.” You say.

Johnny’s smile grows wider, though you didn’t think it could. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He turns back to the baby. “I love you so much, my little Daisy.” He looks at you again. “And you too. I love you, Y/N.”

You settle back against your pillows, smiling. “I love you, too.”

 

IX.

You wake up feeling the bed shift under you, and something tugging at your blanket.

You rub your eyes on your pillow and look up. “Johnny?”

“Hello babe,” Johnny kisses you on the forehead as he climbs in next to you, tucking your blanket up to your neck again.

“What time is it?”

“Three-ish?” Johnny curls up next to you, his hair still damp from his shower.

“Your practice just finished now?”

“Mm-hm.” Johnny puts an arm around you. “Good night, babe.”

You don’t reply, you just nod and shut your eyes knowingly.

Less than a second later, a low wail echoes around your small apartment. Johnny flips over like a pancake and scrambles out of bed before you can even blink.

“Shh, shhh,” Johnny hums, leaning over Daisy’s crib. He’s really proud of that crib – He’d bought it with his own money and ditched a radio show just to assemble it in your apartment. _It’s gender neutral!_ Johnny had said proudly when he’d dragged the box into your apartment without even warning you first. He’d pointed out all the yellow bears and ducks all over the box, jumping all around excitedly. _No pink!_

“ _Hey monkey_ ,” Johnny sings quietly, swaying back and forth with Daisy in his arms – she’s big enough to need at least one arm now, she’s been basically eating every five minutes nd you, her vending machine, are exhausted. “ _Hey monkey, where you been?_ ”

You sit up in bed, leaning against the headboard. “Hey. Stop calling our baby a monkey.”

“It’s just the song,” Johnny smiles at you, before giving one of Daisy’s ears a little flick. “But her ears are really big, so…”

You cover your own ears with your hands. “She gets that from you.”

Johnny walks over to you, grinning as he sways with Daisy. “No, babe, she gets it from _you_.”

You glare at him in the streetlight streaming in through the window, but he looks so cute with Daisy in his arms like that, that you give up and smile. “Oh _please_.”

Johnny leans over and kisses you on the shell of your ear. “Mommy monkey.”

“You’re one to talk.” You reach up and flick one of his ears. “You look like a chimp-” 

Daisy, noticing that she’s no longer the center of attention, starts to cry again. Johnny straightens up and bounces her, humming the monkey song to her again in his scratchy, tired voice. You know that he’s overworked as it is without having to deal with a one-month old baby at asscrack o’clock, so you get up and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“My turn,” You whisper.

“It’s your turn when I’m not here,” Johnny frowns, but he can hardly keep his eyes open. “It’s always your turn…”

“Come on, Johnny, thank you, but I don’t want you falling asleep and dropping Daisy-”

Johnny’s eyes blink wide open, looking hurt. “I’d _never_.”

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “I was joking, Johnny. Just give me the baby and go to sleep.”

“But you’re always-”

“Shhh, shh,” You say, reaching over and taking Daisy away from him before he can finish protesting. You bounce her around in your arms, adjusting your shirt so she has something to drool on. “Go to sleep, baby…”

Johnny stands there, tapping you on the arm. “Babe-”

“You too.” You nod towards the bed. “Go to sleep.”

Johnny opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Fine, but next time…”

“Okay, next time.” You listen to the rustle of Johnny climbing back in bed while you sway until Daisy falls asleep. You’d tried singing her to sleep before, but she seems to already be able to recognize that Daddy’s voice is sweet and Mommy’s voice leaves much to be desired. When she’s finally asleep, you return her to her crib, tucking her in gently and tiptoeing to lean in and press a kiss to her forehead.

You tiptoe across the floor back to your bed, pulling away the blankets carefully, so as not to wake Johnny up. He snores when he’s really tired, and right now he’s snoring so loudly that you’re worried Daisy might wake up again. But she must find the sound comforting, too, because she doesn’t wake up. You curl up against Johnny’s side, letting on hand rest on his rising and falling chest, and drift off to sleep almost immediately.

 

X.

You’re not sure why Johnny’s management is calling you in, and you’re more than a little worried. You’re still on maternity leave, so you don’t have any good excuses _not_ to go. But you’re on maternity leave for a _reason_ , and you can’t just leave that _reason_ at home… But you can’t just waltz into the building carry a baby with Johnny’s eyes, either.

“Hello, I’m, uh,” You’re at the front desk, with Daisy, her carrier, and her bag in tow, trying not to attract attention. “I’m here to see…”

You try to explain that one of the managers called you in, but the woman at the desk looks skeptical. “I’m sorry, but fans aren’t allowed inside-”

“I’m not a goddamn _fan_ ,” You hiss at her, with more vitriol than you intended. “Mr. ___ called me here.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

The receptionist glances at Daisy, who’s looking all around the glass-filled lobby with wide eyes. She’s probably never seen this many lights in her life, and she’s too dazzled to remember she’s constantly hungry or soiling her diapers.

You’re about to finally spill everything when someone calls your name from behind you.

Your turn around, finding Mark waving at you with his whole arm. _Oh god_.

“Hi Mark.” You say, putting one hand over Daisy’s head in a vain attempt to shield her face.

“Hi noo- Oh!” Mark bounces over, crouching to smile at Daisy. “Who’s this?”

“Daisy.” You say, without any more explanation than necessary.

“Hello, Daisy!” Mark wiggles one of Daisy’s feet between two of his fingers, grinning from ear to ear. He turns his smile to you. “She’s very cute.”

“Thanks.” You say, before realizing your mistake. “I- I mean, yes, she is.”

Mark doesn’t seem to notice, because he’s wiggling Daisy’s foot again, giggling to himself. “So, why are you here, noona? Are you here to visit Johnny-hyung?”

“Oh, no, I… uh… one of your managers asked me to come, I’m not sure what for.”

Mark shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything. But I’ll bring you there anyway.”

You cast one smug look at the receptionist, who’s forced to give you a visitor’s pass. You follow Mark into the crowded elevator, through a few crowded halls – around a hundred different people have seen you and Daisy at this point, there was really no hope of passing through unnoticed.

Mark leads you down another hallway, babbling on about the new song they’re practicing, as if it’s not some trade secret you’re technically not supposed to hear about until it’s released. You turn a corner, and walk right into Ten.

“Oh fuck sorr- _Y/N_?” Ten gasps, staggering back a whole meter. “What in the whole fuck are you doing here? With _her_?”

Daisy gurgles cheerfully, as if she knows she’s being talked about.

“I, uh, one of your managers called me in.” You explain, bouncing Daisy to try to quiet her down. “Not sure why.”

“It can’t be good.” Ten frowns.

“Why not?” Mark asks.

You’d almost forgotten he was just there. You’re not sure what Mark’s thinking right now, or if he is at all, because there’s no other way he could have misread Ten’s reaction.

“ _Babe_?”

You can’t believe that despite the fact that this building is like, 30 something floors, everyone seems to be on _this_ one. Johnny stops in his tracks on the way out of the bathroom, then practically runs over.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in a nervous, hissy whisper. “You can’t be here!”

“I know, but one of your managers called me in, and-”

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turn around and find a friendly-looking man in his early thirties smiling at you. “I’m Mr. ____. We spoke on the phone?”

“Oh, hello.” You give him a curt bow, holding Daisy’s head steady as you do.

“Come in here and have a seat, Miss Y/L/N,” The manager says, opening a door to a small conference room. You look back at Johnny anxiously, but he’s clearly more confused than you are, so you just give his hand a quick squeeze and follow the manager into the room.

 

XI.

You don’t speak to Johnny for a few days after that because you just don’t know what to say. Thankfully, he has to go and promote his new song that you haven’t even listened to, and he’s too busy to show up at your apartment or even call. Or maybe he knows, and he doesn’t know what to say, either.

You stop in the middle of putting the folded laundry in the drawers. You don’t have much time to mope, because Daisy starts crying.

It’s like she _knows_ , you think, as you drop all the laundry to go pick her up.

“Shh, baby,” You mumble against the side of her head. You feet the weight in her diapers, and sigh. “I know, I know.”

You lay down a changing sheet on your bed and place her on top of it, before reaching for the bag of diapers. You’re down to three, and you’re also down to the last three digits in your bank account, but there’s no way you’re begging anyone for help. Your parents would disown you if they knew, they’d never help, and Johnny… You feel like Johnny doesn’t deserve to be weighed down by all this. You don’t know why you feel that way, you just do.

You open Daisy’s diapers, wipe her clean, then put on a new pair, thinking all the while about when you’re going to buy a new pack of diapers. And what with?

“Mommy should take the settlement, right?” You ask Daisy as you put her back in her crib. “Mommy should be thinking about you, not herself.”

Your heart aches as you remember the offer the manager had put before you. He’d seemed reluctant, at least, as if he felt awful for having to be the messenger. You didn’t resent him. It was his job, even if that job was to tell you that Johnny’s management would pay you a salary, basically, just to stay away from him. They didn’t want to risk bad press, and few things were worse than an illegitimate baby, you knew that.

Daisy gives you a quizzical look through the wooden bars of her crib when you sit on the floor and start crying, one sock in each hand. She makes a loud noise, not really a wail, just a loud noise to get your attention like, _Mommy, what the hell?_

You start laughing, holding up the socks where Daisy can see them. “These are Daddy’s socks. He forgot them here.”

Daisy watches you laugh with tears still streaming from your eyes, and, utterly confused, starts to cry herself.

You drop Johnny’s socks and go over to her again. “I know, baby, I’ll miss him, too.”

You hadn’t realized you already made up your mind.

 

XII.

“What do you mean?”

You’re a little glad that Johnny’s entire group found out about Daisy, because you could – with great reluctance and a _lot_ of distrust – leave Daisy in her godfather’s care now. Ten has surprising hidden depths, which include a knowing everything about babies after being taught _once_.

So you had Johnny to yourself in your apartment, just like old times, but it’s nothing like that, because there are toys littered all over the floor and a crib taking up most of the walking space by the bed.

“Babe, what do you mean?” Johnny asks again, taking your hands in his. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your opinion,” You say slowly, twining your fingers together. “But I’m sure this is what you’d choose, too, right? It’s what’s best for everyone.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

You kiss him then, and he kisses you back so desperately that you need to drag yourself away to speak again. “I’m protecting you, and me, and Daisy. It’s for all of us, okay? Please remember that.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m going to take their offer. And you’re going to have to keep up your side of the agreement, or Daisy and I can’t get the money-”

“Why can’t I just give you that money?” Johnny frowns, putting his arms around you.

“I don’t want to burden you.” You try to stop yourself from resting your cheek against his chest, but you can’t.

“But when some company offers you money to break up with me, you take it without a question?”

You don’t need to look up to know how hard he’s judging you right now. “I _did_ think about it, Johnny. This is me we’re talking about, you know me, I overthink everything.”

He runs a thumb along the base of your spine. “I know.”

“So you have to… I can’t _tell_ you what to do, but it’s the right choice.” You say, more to yourself than to him. “Right?”

When Johnny doesn’t reply, you look up at him. “Johnny?”

“I love you. And our little Daisy.” He says slowly. “Why isn’t that enough?”

You bite on your lip. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, even though you knew the minute he’d walked into your apartment earlier that you’d break that promise.

“I know, I know,” He holds you close against him, like he knows you’re just forcing yourself to be strong. “We need to be practical. And I don’t know how to be practical.”

“Johnny, it’s not that…”

“If you think it’s what’s best for Daisy, then I trust you.” Johnny says. His voice is weirdly calm. “I’ll do what’s best for Daisy. And you.”

You feel like someone’s strangling your heart. “I- I take it back, I can’t do this, Johnny, I can’t raise Daisy alone, please don’t leave me-”

“Shhh,” Johnny holds you against him and sways, humming at you like you’re Daisy and he’s trying to put you to sleep. He leans back to kiss you on the forehead, then holds you again. “I’m not leaving you. This is only for a little while. We’ll be back to normal before we even know it.”

 

XIII.

Johnny was right about one thing. You don’t realize it, but eight months pass after you break up with him, and you get used to working and taking care of Daisy on your own. You don’t like it, but you’re used to it, and at least you don’t have to worry about money.

You find yourself checking your bank account on your phone one morning as you walk into a café to meet a client.

“Maaa!” Daisy kicks you in the side, getting excited in her papoose from the sheer amount of people in the café. Most nine-month-old babies get nervous when they see a lot of people, but Daisy seems starved for attention after being alone with you all the time.

You laugh and reach back to pat her leg. “Calm down, Daisy.”

Daisy lets out a loud coo in response, drawing smiles from everyone in the café within a ten-foot radius.

“Oh, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today,” A woman stands up from a table by the window to shake your hand. “With the rains and all.”

“Daisy can handle a little rain.” You assure her, and Daisy, as if on cue, lets out a sweet little gurgle and smiles. She looks almost nothing like she did when she was born, and with her cheeks stuffed to bursting now, she looks an awful lot like her father.

“She’s so lovely,” Your client says, giving Daisy’s chubby little foot a light squeeze.

“Don’t let her hear that, it’s all going to go to her head,” You chuckle as you reach into your bag for your iPad as you both take your seats. “So, about your wedding… Let’s start off with the musical arrangements, that’s the hairiest thing right now, isn’t it?”

Your client grimaces. “I’m sorry, you see, my fiancé, he works at this entertainment company, and he basically baby-sits a bunch of idols…” She bursts out laughing.

“And what, these idols want to sing at your wedding?” You ask, laughing. “I mean, it’s a very sweet gesture, but if they’re a big-name deal, we’re going to need extra security and-”

“It’s actually fine with me if they don’t even come.”

Your eyes widen, but you say nothing. “So…”

“I need more space for my father’s sisters and aunts,” Your client explains. “And besides, what could idols do at a wedding? _Dance_ hip-hop? It’s just not appropriate.”

You can’t help but laugh, getting the mental image of a group of wedding singers breaking out into Ring Ding Dong, wearing tuxedos and everything. You take a few notes on your tablet. “Surely they have some slow songs in their arsenal.”

Your client rolls her eyes. “You don’t understand, this _group_ my fiancé manages, they’re around 30 _boys_.”

“The industry’s really losing it, huh?” You laugh at the idea of trying to squeeze 30 boys on a single stage. Someone would definitely fall off. Poor him.

“Honey, I’m sorry I’m late…”

You and your client look up to find a man standing by your table, shedding a raincoat. You stare at him for some time, unable to place where you’d met him before.

He frowns at you, too, as he takes a seat next to his fiancée. She takes him by the arm. “This is the lovely lady who’s been planning our wedding.”

You grimace. “Actually, I’ve just been _helping_ -”

“We’ve met before.” Your client’s fiancé – well, technically your other client – says.

“Have we?” You ask.

“I’m uh,” He coughs. “I’m Johnny’s manager.”

You have to stop for a moment and blink at him with a blank expression. You only snap back to reality when Daisy starts kicking you in the side.

“Th- This is Daisy now,” You say absentmindedly, turning the papoose to give him a better view of the baby. “She’s gotten a lot bigger since you’ve last seen her.”

“That she has,” Johnny’s manager coughs again, not meeting your eyes. His fiancée keeps giving him curious looks, as she and Daisy seem to be the only ones left out of this conversation.

“How’s Johnny?” You ask, before you really think about it.

“He’s fine. They’re in Japan right now.”

“Oh, really?” You nod slowly. “That’s good, I guess.”

“Who’s Johnny?” Your client interjects.

You look to Johnny’s manager for help, but he looks away, picking at lint on his sweater. “He’s one of my kids.”

Your client looks at Daisy, and you turn to try and hide Daisy from her line of sight, but you can already _see_ her thinking, and you hate it.

 

XIV.

You’re the wedding planner, so you’re well aware that Johnny’s going to be there even before you see him, but that still doesn’t prepare you for when you do.

It’s just not healthy to pine over someone for months just to suddenly run into them in a suit and tie. You mouth hangs open for way too long before you manage to say, “Hi.”

“Oh.” Johnny suddenly looks a thousand times less cool. He looks flustered and sad, if there’s a word for that. “Hi.”

You can’t think of anything else to say, so you turn and nag one of the people in charge of the floral arrangements under your breath.

The wedding goes by smoothly – they really lose their magic when you’ve seen hundreds of them, and you’re privy to every detail. You tak a few polite sips of champagne during the reception then go to a backroom to call up your assistant, who’s currently baby-sitting Daisy.

“Is she sleeping?” You ask, frowning at the fuzzy video on your phone.

“I think so?” You assistant whispers back, turning the camera back to her. “Did the florist make it?”

“Just barely. And they did a crap job with the lilies, I had to use some plastic ones in the hanging pots.” You groan, leaning against the door. You can hear someone giving a speech inside the venue, but you just don’t have the stomach to watch people happy right now. The floral arrangements are crap and you miss your boyfriend so much that you find yourself sitting down on the floor of the backroom, sobbing into your knees.

The door opens.

“For fuck’s sake, just replace everything with plastic flowers for all I care, it’s not like it’ll show up in the photos like a sore thumb, right?” You grumble, without looking up. You assume it’s the florist or one of his assistants, who else would be bothering you?

“But they will. That’s why you hate plastic flowers.”

You don’t look up, but you reach for an extra table napkin to dry your face. You get up, eyes still trained downwards. “The bathrooms are the other way.”

“My bad,” Johnny says, taking the napkin from you to dab gently at your cheeks.

You can’t look at him, but you can flinch away. “Johnny, if anyone catches us-”

“I don’t care.” Johnny uses one hand to hold your face steady while he dries it.

You tear the napkin out of his hand and toss it aside. “Think about Daisy.”

“Where is she?”

“At home. One of my assistants is watching her.”

Johnny nods slowly. He hasn’t let go of your face, and you haven’t pulled out of his touch, just because you feel like you really need it, after all this time. “I thought you wouldn’t take any more late night evens when you had the baby-”

“That was when she was a newborn,” You say. “I can leave her now, that assistant’s basically my sister-”

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” You look up into his eyes, knowing full well that it’s a mistake, but you fall right into it anyway. Because you need to see his warm brown eyes gazing at you like that, you really needed it.

“Isn’t it tiring?”

“What?”

“Working so hard,” He says. “And raising Daisy on your own.”

“Yes.” You say honestly. You expect him to say something else, you’re starting to feel fidgety from waiting, but then he turns to the door. You have to reach out and catch him by the sleeve before he leaves. “Wait, Johnny.”

He doesn’t turn around. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” You say. “It was wrong of me to make decisions for the both of- for _all three_ of us. I’m sorry you haven’t been able to see your daughter, and I’m sorry I took the money so shamelessly-”

“Y/N.”

You chew on your lip, knowing your makeup’s ruined anyway. “I’m sorry.”

“I really don’t care anymore.”

Your heart sinks. “About us?”

“About everything else,” Johnny takes your hand in his. “I don’t care what people think of me, I’d rather know that I’m not abandoning my family like a complete asshole.”

“Johnny, I signed an agreement-”

“Break it. I’ll take care of you.” Johnny holds your hand so tightly you feel like you’re never getting it back.

You don’t answer, but some time later the florist’s assistant bursts into the room to find the wedding planner making out with one of the guests. She excuses herself and steps out, confused and more than a little shocked. Meanwhile you’re letting Johnny tug your underwear down – later you’ll say that it was near that time of the month, or that it was all the pent up feelings from almost a year away from him, or that he just looked _that_ good in a suit. The fact remains that you’re spreading your legs for him on a plastic foldaway table in a wedding venue with a reception happening just outside the door.

“Wait, wait, stop.” You say, tapping your hands on his shoulders to get his attention.

“Uh-huh?” Johnny kisses you on the cheek, leaving his lips against your skin as he breathes heavily.

“Condom. _Please_.”

“Oh.” Johnny’s face flushes a bright pink. He laughs nervously. “O- Of course.”

 

XV.

“Do you think she’ll even remember this?” Johnny asks, hugging you from behind while you try to get the lighter going. He bends over to rest his chin on your shoulder, which is probably hell for his back, but very cute nonetheless.

“Probably not.” You say, finally getting a small flame out. You hold it up to the lone candle in the middle of the cake. “That’s why we have Ten here.”

Ten waves the camera he’s holding. “Yeah, ‘cause this is all I’m good for, right?”

“Take one of us,” Johnny says, pulling you close to him until your back’s flush against his body. He grins at Ten so widely that Ten gives in and lifts the camera up.

“Hey Y/N, _smile_.” Ten grumbles.

“Wait, wait, I hear Daisy,” You say, breaking out of Johnny’s embrace to run into the bedroom. Sure enough, Daisy’s already climbed halfway up your dresser, her chubby feet trembling on the drawer handles as she reaches for your hairbrush.

“Daisy, no!” You pick her up with a little huff – she’s really heavy now – and carry her out to the kitchen. “Is the candle still lit?”

“No!” Daisy echoes with a giggle. “NO!”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I got it.” Johnny says, hands cupped around the candle to keep it from being blown out. “Ten, Ten, take our photo!”

“Sure.” Ten grumbles, but he smiles when he gets all three of you in the frame, with Daisy already reaching out to bury her hand in the cake. He snaps a photo at the exact moment Daisy’s hand slaps into the icing, and your and Johnny’s wide eyes and open mouths caught screaming, _NO!_

You manage to clean her hand off and pin both her hands to her sides long enough for Johnny to sing the fastest rendition of Happy Birthday ever, before both of you blow out the candle for her and clap overenthusiastically. Daisy frowns, slightly confused, but claps along anyway, and Ten catches the whole thing on video.

“You should be paying me for this,” Ten says, smiling as he goes through his camera’s gallery.

“Thanks, Ten, you know we love you,” You say, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Ten turns to Johnny with an expectant look. “Come on.”

Johnny sighs and, handing Daisy back to you, bends over and gives Ten a quick peck on the cheek. If you’d blinked at the wrong time, you’d have missed it. “We love you, I guess.”

Daisy claps her hands excitedly.  

Later that evening, after you’ve cleaned up the mess and put Daisy to sleep between you, you lie awake facing Johnny with a silly smile on your face.

“Babe?” Johnny whispers, deathly afraid of waking Daisy up after all the effort he’d put into getting her to sleep in the first place.

“Yeah?” You whisper back.

“Let’s have another baby.”

“ _Now_?”

“No, no, later, when Daisy’s older and we get married and I get another job,” Johnny says, and he’s been saying that for a while now, but he still hasn’t quit the idol industry. He’s moved out of the dorm and into this apartment with you, though, so you’re a little worried he might get serious about that sometime soon. “I think I want four kids.”

“Sure, if _you_ give birth to all the others.”

“ _Baaaabe_.” Johnny reaches over Daisy and flicks you on the arm. “Fine. Just three?”

“Okay.” You grumble, as if you’re settling and that wasn’t your plan, too. “Three kids.”

Johnny blows you a kiss. “I love you.”

You mime catching the kiss in your fist. “I love you, too.”

Daisy whines in her sleep.

You pat her belly gently, whispering, “Don’t worry, we love you, too.”

“She’s such an attention-seeker,” Johnny pretends to frown, but he grins.

“She gets it from you.”

“No, she gets it from you.”

“No, you.”

“No, _you_.”

Daisy’s whine turns into a low wail, and then a full-blown cry. You roll your eyes and kick Johnny in the shin, and the both of you rock-paper-scissors to figure out who’ll pick her up.

You win.


End file.
